Dramione Depictions
by Just-Sparks
Summary: A collection of short Dramione one shots, etc. Each is set in its own time, universe, and reality. The first 5 chapters are fics that I wrote nearly two years ago, but the rest will be new ones. Take each for what it is. The summary of each fic is at the top of the chapter. Enjoy! Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my plotlines.
1. Okay

**SUMMARY- All Draco wants is to read his paper, while cuddling with his fiancee, Hermione Granger. However, something is on her mind, which won't let either of them have any peace. One Shot!**

"I made a mistake," Hermione states, letting her book fall onto her chest, while her head lies still in my lap.

For the past half hour, we've been lying here together on our couch, reading separate pieces of literature. In my hands rests a current copy of The Daily Prophet; in hers, a muggle classic. I'm not exactly certain how much reading she had done in the time we've cuddled here, considering she has barely turned more than a few pages in her book. Part of me feels like this action was simply for my own benefit, which is its own worry in itself. From the moment we both had come home from work, I knew something had been bothering her. Despite wanting to ask, I let it be, until she was ready to tell me herself.

"What did you do?" I question, looking down at her troubled face, hoping it wasn't what I thought.

"I kissed someone else."

"Why?"

"I needed to know the truth," she replies, her breathing becoming slightly erratic now.

"Okay," I answer, looking back up at my copy of the Prophet, grateful it had only been a kiss.

"Okay? That's all you're going to say?"

"What else is there to say Hermione? Congratulations? I wish you had shagged him?"

"I hate you. You're a horrible person? Any of that ring a bell?"

"You just relayed to me that it was a mistake. I'm not daft enough to think that you would tell me this if you didn't believe it yourself. I trust you, so don't worry your bushy head over it too much. I'm not mad, because you were honest with me. Just don't let it happen again. I don't share love."

Leaning down to the best of my ability, I give her a kiss on the forehead to seal my previous statement, before sitting back up straight. At my touch, she pulls herself up and takes the paper from my grasp, laying it aside on the left armrest beside her. Turning back to me, she presses her lips against mine and begins kissing me passionately. Biting her lip, I suck on it lightly, which causes her to moan. Wrapping my arms around her, I entangle my fingers in her hair, deepening the kiss. Responding, she interlocks her legs around my waist, slipping her fingers into my hair. For a few moments, there is only pure bliss. Then reality sets in, which causes the both of us to pull away for air.

Looking at me, after her breathing stabilizes, she simply says, " Okay," before plopping back down into her original position from before.

"Okay," I reply, grabbing my paper to continue reading.

A few minutes later, she looks up at me from her book again.

"Draco?" she whispers.

"Yes darling?" I ask, looking down at her again, knowing what she will say when I spot the tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"I know," I respond, turning back to my Prophet once again.

A few seconds later, Hermione stands up, heading towards the door that leads to the kitchen in our flat. Before she makes it fully out, I call out to her and she turns around.

"Yes love?" she asks, while looking at me suspiciously.

"Tell Weasley that the next time he kisses my girl, he can expect a right hook in the face. I'll let it slide this one time, though. Consider it my wedding gift to him," I state, before turning the page of my paper casually.

Smiling shyly at me, she responds with a soft, "Okay," before disappearing through the door.

Satisfied that my fiancee prefers me to her prat of a best friend, I turn back to my copy of the Prophet, finally able to read it in peace.


	2. Shut Up and Dance

Shut Up and Dance-

Five years following the Second Wizarding War, everyone in the Wizarding community is invited to the newly formed Unity Ball. While Draco believes this will be just another night of pretending he's not in the same room with the love of his life, Hermione's about to give him and everyone else a bit of a shock. COMPLETE!

In the first few months during the aftermath of the Second Great Wizard War, as it had so been named, the Ministry had wasted no time in making it clear that unity across the Wizarding World was essential if it was to rebuild itself and avoid another such disaster. Amongst some of the brightest minds in the magical community, there had been a committee of sorts to decide how to best achieve such a goal. Borne out of numerous discussions, along with other proposals, the Unity Ball had been conceived. The first one had been held a year and a day after the final battle. Five years later, the tradition continues on.

As in years' past, a diverse group of magical folk from near and far, had arrived hours prior to commencement of the ball, furnishing the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to look as if it were a polished ballroom, rather than a school mess hall. The ceiling, which is currently bewitched with floating candles of distinct colors, also has a view of the brightest stars in the galaxy, each shining down upon every single guest in attendance. Circular tables all around are covered with white, lacy tablecloths, laden with placement cards, as well as more candles.

Witches and wizards mull around the entirety of the room, while conversing with one and other, as the band conjures their stage together, beside the Head table. The feast has once again filled every person in the room, with not a one person able to eat another pinch.

Hermione Granger, who has just re-entered the room, scans it for one certain individual. She has had absolutely enough of the cowardice they have previously displayed on a number of occasions, including the very dinner that just concluded minutes before on this very night. She was a Gryffindor after all. How could she not show her true colors in every aspect of her life?

Standing next to his brother Charlie, who is currently on vacation from Romania, Ronald Weasley looks at Hermione expectantly, but she shakes her head to politely decline.

"Not now Ronald," she mumbles quietly, bypassing his hopeful gaze.

In the heat of the battle, which this very function happens to mark, Hermione had made an error in judgement by snogging one of her two best friends, namely one Ronald Bilius Weasley. For years, she had fancied him, until she arrived at the realization rather quickly in the aftermath that it was nothing more than a schoolgirl crush. In reality, the pair could never be anything more than friends. If she had shown that sort of discretion at the time the moment had presented itself, she muses, perhaps she would not find herself the center of his decidedly misplaced affections still.

Roving her eyes further around the room, she spots Harry and Ginny not far from the rest of the Weasleys near the entrance, regarding each other with adoration. Currently engaged to be married, the pair are simply enjoying each other's company, with no set date in sight for their impending nuptials.. However, it went without saying that there would be no one else for either of them.

Luna and Neville stand a little further away from Harry and Ginny, chatting to each other with relative ease. From her vantage point, although she could not be entirely sure, it seems as if Neville is about to ask Luna for her hand in a dance.

"It's about time," Hermione acknowledges silently.

Proceeding with her search, she recognizes that a plethora of alumni representing Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, Illvermorny, Castelbruxo, Uagadou, and Mahoutokoro alike, are in attendance, as well as current students of each school, teachers, and Ministry officials. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the presiding Minister of Magic, stands with a cup of punch in his hand, talking to the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall, closer to the Head table. Noting rather unsurprisingly that Narcissa Malfoy remains off in the distance next to a window, amongst the throngs of guests, surveying the entirety of the room.

Finally resting her gaze on one man, Hermione takes all of him in for a whole second, before practically marching towards him. Despite the knowledge that no one has even an inkling of suspicion that either of them are spoken for, they are about to, she resigns. Politely cutting through the thicket of surprised witches and wizards surrounding him, she stands directly in front of him, and slips her hand into his. Ignoring the collective breath that everyone around them suddenly takes, she leads him away in the direction of the dance floor.

As the couple strides to the middle of the room, both of them can feel the questioning stares that fill the Hall, from bystanders and fellow dancers alike. Hermione pays them no mind though. She is through with the way her life has been previously dictated by some of the same people in this very room and has decided that it is her turn to be genuinely happy, rather than someone else's dirty little secret.

"Hermione, what do you think you are doing?" Draco hisses.

"There's no turning back now," she replies, slipping one arm around his neck, and the other in his right hand.

"So I can see," he responds, clearly displeased with the first public display of their relationship.

"Is something wrong darling?" she queries ever so innocently, a mischievous smile appearing on her face.

"No, love, of course not. I just thought we had decided my death should come in old age, rather than my twenties," he replies snarkily.

"Don't be so dramatic Draco. No one would dare touch you with me standing next to you."

"That remains to be seen. However, at least now Weasley may stop staring at you as if he were your lap dog."

"Draco, shut up and dance with me."

"As you wish, darling," he acquiesces, despite the nervousness engorging itself in the pit of his stomach.

The song that the band has been playing, ends shortly after they take the dance floor, much to Hermione's chagrin. Whether out of cowardice, or relief that he is no longer required to feign his indifference of the bushy haired witch, Draco continues dancing to each and every song that Hermione wishes to. At last, a slower song filters through the air, which has Hermione retreating toward the refreshments. However, he refuses to allow her to relent so easily, now that their secret has been put on display for their world to see. Maintaining a soft grasp on her hand, he swiftly spins her back around to him, making certain that everyone in the room is aware that this relationship is certainly not up for negotiation. Glancing up at him, Hermione's chocolate brown eyes question him wordlessly.

"What we've shown them so far has been mere child's play. I do believe it's time we let everyone know how truly amazing we are together though, don't you love?" Draco whispers into her ear.

Paying no heed to any other pair of eyes one final time, Draco and Hermione stare lovingly into each other's own, while pulling each other close. Throughout each note of the following song, they leave no doubt as to whether or not they are downright smitten with each other, dancing as if they are connected as one. A plethora of jaws drop around the room, but the couple pays them no mind. When the song finishes, both agree to take it the extra mile by planting a firm kiss on one another's lips right on the dance floor.

"You were holding out on me, darling," Hermione whispers to Draco softly, before turning to face the inevitable rest of their lives.


	3. A Revealing Joke

**A Revealing Joke**

 **When a night out on April Fool's Day goes awry, a new truth is revealed to the other two members of the Golden Trio. One shot! Not canon. Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I just borrow them.**

Opening his eyes slowly, a thick film still present, the Auror Ronald Weasley looks around at his surroundings apprehensively. Recognizing the room, he breathes a sigh of relief. He acknowledges to himself that he could have fared far worse than to end up in one of his best mate's bedroom's, namely one Hermione Granger. The thought of her makes him wonder what could have led him to his current location? Rubbing his face stiffly, the events of the night before begin revealing themselves fuzzily.

Upon further introspection, a throbbing headache presents itself, causing him to clutch at his neck, attempting to massage out the pain. A creak at the door a few seconds later causes him to look up at a smiling Hermione.

"Finally awoken, have you?" she teases with a coy smile.

Tossing her hands to her hips, she shakes her head before closing the door behind her. Noticing his right hand clutching at his neck, she lithely climbs into bed, intent on massaging all of the pain out.

Enjoying the ministrations of her tiny, but strong hands, he opts not to say a word at all. Leaning into her touch, he lies his head on her lap, allowing her to continue. The headache subsides almost as quickly as it had arrived earlier. When he opens his eyes, he finds the witch staring down at him adoringly. On a whim, he reaches up and presses a light peck on the lips to test the waters. As soon as their lips touch however, he tastes acid, causing him to recoil in shock.

Attributing it to nerves, the wizard reaches across the space between their bodies to cup her cheek, before brushing his lips against hers once again. Just as the time before, the second their lips touch, a sick sensation spreads throughout him. Ripping apart from her, he stands up and pivots about face, only to turn back around a moment later. Spying the hurt look in her eyes, he walks forward cautiously.

"Are you alright Draco?" Hermione murmurs, concern filling her gaze.

"What did you just call me?"

"Your name, Draco. Are you positive you don't need a bit more of a lie in? You seem slightly off kilter this morning."

"What are you playing at, calling me by the bloody ferret's name? Is this your idea of a joke?"

"Ronald?"

"Yes Hermione. I only slept in your bed last night," he states the obvious, in an exasperated tone.

Comprehension fills the witch in front of him, leaving more questions than answers. Hopping up, he hears her murmur as she sprints by that she needs to floo Harry.

"What does Harry have-," he begins, before stopping at the sight of his reflection in the mirror.

A look that had been confused, now morphs into shock on the familiar pale visage of Draco Malfoy. Frozen, as if time is standing still, he stares at the reflection in the mirror. Knocking him back into reality is the sound of his own voice being emitted from downstairs. Following behind her, he stops at the doorway, listening to the conversation below.

"I don't know who did this love, but I promise when I find out-"

"Draco, everything will be alright. There's been a bit of a mix up, but-"

"A bit of a mix up? A bit of a mix up would be bringing home salt instead of sugar. Hermione, I woke up in another wizard's body!"

"I understand that you're upset darling. I'll look through my books and find a solution. Afterall, it can't be that complicated of a hex if someone performed it inebriated last night."

"True enough. Can you do me a favor before I arrive home, and remove Weasley from our sleeping quarters? Inhabiting his body is bad enough without worrying about what fantasies he's entertained in mine."

Nodding, both close out the conversation with a quick goodbye. The flame of hope that had been lit earlier, extinguishes in a single blow. In sock clad feet, Ron treks down the stairs, feeling weighted down in misery. Reaching the first step to the flight of stairs, he looks over to spy Hermione concentrated on a large blue tome on the table below her, worry etched into her every facial feature. Grimacing, the wizard follows an invisible path to the old black leather couch in front of the fire, flopping down momentarily.

The fireplace lights up a few heartbeats later, allowing the for the figures of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy within Ronald Weasley's body to step through. Immediately, Draco strides over to Hermione in a few easy steps, which in turn has her two friends gawking at the strange sight.

"Please tell me that somewhere in that wonderful mind of yours, you have some type of solution formulated," the currently ginger haired man pleads into her ear from behind, while wrapping his arms around her waist.

Looking up from her current place on the page, Hermione stares into the eyes of her best friend, lit up with her boyfriend's own emotions. From the other side of the room, the simple image is surreal, causing an intense ache to surge throughout Ron and his borrowed human form. Unaware of the stares, she reaches for his hand, squeezing it lightly. Simultaneously, she flashes a reassuring smile.

"It's a simple charm, from what it says in this book. I have no doubt it was concocted by someone of the same mindset as Fred and George Weasley."

"Let's get on with it then. I've had enough of being a ginger for one lifetime. No offense, Weasley. Red is just not my style,"

"Pale isn't a good look on anyone, much less me. I'll be more than happy to be in my own body again as well."

Pulling her wand from within the magically engorged denim pocket of her pants, Hermione wordlessly casts the countercurse as a test run, surprising even herself when it begins to take effect. Bright blue light blinds the occupants of the room for what feels like a lifetime, but is in reality no more than a single minute in time. Once the illumination dissipates, the quadruple survey the room, attempting to shake their current daze. Gaining her wits about her first, Hermione turns to where the body of Draco Malfoy stands.

"Draco?" she queries, tentatively.

"It's me Hermione," he confirms, still feeling slightly out of sorts.

Without hesitation, she bounds forward, burying her head in his chest. Smirking, he wraps his arms around her, appreciating the familiarity of the movements of his own body again. A cough from them breaks the barrier of uncomfortable silence around them.

"Er, Hermione, I think Ron and I will leave now. Owl us later if you er, get the chance. Ah, Mal-Draco, see you later," Harry stutters out, before taking his leave quickly, with Ron not far behind.

Once the other two men are out of sight, Draco looks down at Hermione.

"It is now a proven fact that our lot of Gryffindors and Slytherins should never visit the Three Broomsticks together on April Fool's Day, ever again."

"I couldn't agree more. At least something good came out of the whole ordeal."

"What would that be?" Draco asks, humoring his girlfriend.

"We no longer have to figure out how to tell everyone we're together," she answers, silencing him after with a deep kiss.

~El Fin~


	4. Hidden Storm

**Hidden Storm - Draco works late one night, leaving an anxiety riddled Hermione in his absence. Will she let him return home, or will this be the end? One Shot! Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, J.K. Rowling does.**

Flicking through an older copy of Witch Weekly absentmindedly, while drumming her fingers tediously on the mahogany table at which she sits, Hermione Granger glances up at the sunshine filtering in through the only window in the kitchen of her shared flat. The gleeful rays suffice as the only illumination in the room, as they dance merrily across any surface they are able to touch. Many of her friends often tease her regarding the darkened state of their apartment, but she merely shrugs them off, continuing to enjoy the lack of light surrounding her. In her quiet world of pain, the dimness serves as a blanket of sorts.

Unknown to most of her long time friends and family members, following Bellatrix's torture, she had never been quite the same since. While others had finally begun moving on from the events of the Second Wizarding War that had made its mark in wizarding history seven years before, the crippling depression coupled with irreparable damage rendered against her body, suspends the brightest witch of her age in a constant state of limbo that alternates between joy and unseen misery.

A knock at the door brings her out of her current apathetic daze. Standing up slowly, she carefully meanders to her door. Peeking out of the peep hole, she spies a familiar shock of white blonde hair, which ignites a flame of anger within her. Pulling out her wand, she lifts the heavy wards she constantly changes to remove even the thought of unwanted intruders. Reaching for the doorknob once the wards have fallen, she turns it, then allowing it to reveal her boyfriend of two years.

"Hi love," he smiles, before tentatively attempting to cross the threshold of their shared flat.

A pale arm blocks his entrance, to which he only nods, then returning to his previous position outside of the door.

"Malfoy," she grinds out while crossing her arms.

"Hermione, I never meant to stay so late. Even though I was swamped, I should have owled. I realize I was in the wrong, I simply-"

"failed to remember me patiently awaiting your arrival for our preset dinner date last night," the bushy haired witch finishes icily.

"It was never intentional, I promise."

"I waited hours Draco, hours. You didn't owl, or even text using that blasted phone I taught you to use. When you didn't answer my phone calls, I thought the worst!" Hermione cries, while wringing her hands in the air, before promptly bursting into tears.

Stepping forward, Draco pulls her into his arms, holding her tightly.

"I know darling, I know," he breathes, while stroking his hand through her hair softly.

Pulling away, she glares up furiously.

"No, you bloody don't know! I paced the length of our flat nearly a thousand times, worrying. I couldn't leave, because I rationalized that if I did, you might arrive while I was out searching for you. One minute I thought you might have finally up and left me, for someone who isn't an utter disaster. The next, I wondered if someone had murdered you. The problem is that I didn't sodding know! The crippling fear that engulfed me while all of these terrible thoughts voiced their presence in my mind, removed any chance for logical thought!" Hermione screams, shaking as she nears the end of her explanation.

"You're right. I shouldn't have been so careless. I'm truly sorry Hermione, for all that I put you through. Forgive me, please," Draco pleads in earnest.

Reaching up, she pinches the bridge of her nose, inhaling and exhaling sporadically. After a few moments, she is able to reign in her emotions enough to have a more civil conversation. Looking up into the emotionally charged grey eyes, a sliver more of anger dissipates within her.

"Let it happen again, and I won't unlock the door for you under any circumstances, Draco Malfoy," she replies somewhat stiffly, although her resolve continues to waiver.

"I love you Hermione. Please, let me come home," he whispers.

Closing the gap between them, she allows his embrace to encircle her once again, permitting her need for comfort to override all other emotions. Feeling her small frame relax in his arms, Draco breathes a sigh of relief, as the storm that had surrounded them passes.

Author's Note: To all who suffer through depression, anxiety, etc., this story is dedicated to you and I, as well as those who are our biggest cheerleaders every day. Were it not for my other half, I would be far worse off than I am now. To know love, even in our darkest moments, is by far the most uplifting part of our world.


	5. A Letter To Myself At Seventeen

**A Letter To Myself At Seventeen**

 **A letter Draco finds written by his older self to him at seventeen finds its way to him in the dead of night. Already emotionally and physically broken, this letter gives him hope in one of the darkest times of his life, the summer before he is set to return to Hogwarts for his seventh year. Upon finding out how the letter has reached him, the timeline of events that leads up to where his life eventually describes in the letter is set into motion. NOT Deathly Hallows/Epilogue compatible after a certain point.**

Knowing where I would be on any given night at the time I had just become seventeen wasn't hard to guess. At that point, I was an utter disaster mentally and physically. What I had thought I wanted, ended up becoming the worst part of my life thus far. Looking back now, I realize the only way that I had made it through was the letter that I found when I was seventeen. Having saved it after all of these years, it is now my duty to go back in time once again and place it exactly where I had already previously found it myself at that age.

Time is a funny notion really. Wizards, especially if we are not careful, can set off the balance of the space time continuum quite easily. As I've heard Hermione utter more than once, " Awful things happen to wizards who meddle with time." This one instance though, I believe that I can make an exception.

Just as I am about to turn the time turner back the correct number of times, I hear the door to my study crack open. Turning around, I am face to face with my son Scorpius, who is currently only seven years old. Looking at me suspiciously, I realize he's already seen the forbidden device within my possession. Quickly, I begin the number of turns necessary before he is able to alert his mother. If she were to find out, she would murder me before Voldemort even has the chance once again.

17 Years Earlier

The current night could be one of the most terrifying nights that I have experienced up to this point. After sitting at the table watching as Voldemort had set Nagini on Hogwarts Professor Charity Burbage, I've seen enough horrible torture to date to last myself a lifetime. It had taken Nagini hours before she had been able to swallow even an eighth of Burbage's body. By the time the Death Eaters had disassembled, she had barely swallowed a fourth. Would I not have been murdered for doing so, I would have vomited right there on the table in front of everyone at this upsetting sight.

Following Mother out of the room that had played host to the meeting that night, I feel a slight bit of relief for not having to pretend as if everything was alright, at least for the moment. Knowing that until someone could kill Voldemort, such as Potter, this would never be truly over. Silently, I hope every day that Potter and his group of friends are out there somewhere formulating a plan that would end this madness. For the first time in my life, I am holding out hope that Harry Potter really could be the "Chosen One".

If someone had told me years ago that I would want Harry Potter to succeed in anything, I would have thought you were barking mad. I had believed that Potter was one of the worst accidents to happen upon the sacred halls of Hogwarts. Little did I know that even the thought of the boy whom I once despised would be one of my only hopes that kept me going through the days and nights at Malfoy Manor when I thought that I couldn't take one more second of it.

Treading towards my room, I notice a flash of blonde hair darting down one of the hallways parallel to the one in my current path. At this point, I know it's time for me to go to sleep, because I've begun hallucinating images. There could be no one on earth with hair as blonde as that besides my father and I, who is currently at my right side as my mother leads us to our bed chambers. Outside of my room, Mother and Father both hug me, before they bid me goodnight. Once behind my closed door, I crumble to the floor in a heap.

A large amount of time passes, before I stand up and walk over to my bed to sit on it for a moment. Before I lay back however, I notice a white envelope sitting on my nightstand that hadn't been there before. The only visible sign that it's meant for me, is that my name Draco is scrawled across the front of said envelope. The curious part is that it looks as if it is my own handwriting. Picking it up suspiciously, as soon as I open it, my morbid curiosity begins to turn into something more.

Dear Draco,

If you are reading this letter, then you have survived yet another horrendous night at the table with Voldemort as the head. No doubt you have just come to bed, after having witnessed the slow and eventual death of Hogwarts Professor Charity Burbage. Before you believe this letter to be a farce, please read until the very end. Painstakingly, I have risked the future of the Wizarding World to deliver this to you, so I kindly ask that you do me at least this one favor.

At this point, you are curious as to who could know such intimate details about events that have only just occurred. How could someone mimic your handwriting so perfectly, unless this were yourself? Before you run and show Mother this letter, please know that you and I are one and the same. If you wish to end up where I am right now, you must, for the safety of everyone involved, safeguard this letter with your life. In the wrong hands, these pieces of parchment could change the world as I know it at this very moment, and as you would inevitably never be able to understand it. I hope this will be explanation enough.

I realize that at this moment in your young life, you are wondering how you could possibly go on most nights. While I believed the same up until I read this letter, I too thought that it would be easier to die a graceful death, leaving behind the world of sorrow. I promise that years later, you would regret this decision. Wonder what you have waiting for on the other side of this war? Let me tell you.

You have a loving wife and two wonderful children, who are the best people that you could ever hope to have in your life. At times they drive you to the brink of insanity, but in the end, they always bring you back to the land of the sane. Although you never would have thought it possible, you love your wife with every piece of your soul. She may be smarter than you most of the time, but you never hesitate to remind her when you actually are right, which slightly infuriates her. Of course the occasional heated arguments make for wonderful make up shags. This is secretly between you and I mate, or I'm for certain Voldemort would have nothing on the fury you could incur by letting it be known you rile her up specifically for that purpose.

The people who you once believed to be your enemies, will also turn out to be the very people you should have accepted all along. To you now, they are simply emblems of hope in your young mind, as you wile away the horrid days you are forced to endure. One day though, they will become a loving second family, whom you couldn't imagine your life without. Fear not, Mother and Father are also well.

As you ponder every piece of information I have given you, above all, do not lose all hope. Even when the moments come where you believe you will break, witnessing horrors acted out by your own blood, do not lose faith. Stand firm and be courageous. If the occasion permits, be a Gryffindor if you must.

Every puzzle piece is falling into place as it should while you are reading this letter, and will continue to do so, as long as you safeguard the information I have given. Take heart, because even though the road seems impossible ahead, what's yet to come is truly the best of all. See you in the mirror one day old friend,

Sincerely,

Draco Lucius Malfoy (34)

Ps. Ask Hermione how to operate her Time Turner, when the opportunity presents itself. It will all make sense one day.

Folding the letter back, and carefully placing it into a spot that not even the Dark Lord himself could find, I lay back and wonder if what my future self said could possibly mean that I end up with who I think I meant. If so, maybe getting through these next few months will not be as horrible as I anticipate them to be, despite the gruesome events that I know will occur. Pulling the covers over me, I fall into a restful and dreamless sleep for the first time in months.

Upon returning to present day, I find an irate Hermione who is clearly looking at where I had only disappeared moments ago. If looks could kill, I would be lying on the floor lifeless. Behind Hermione, stands Scorpius, quaking in fear of the wrath that has become my beautiful wife. Tentatively, I pull off the Time Turner and place it in her outstretched hand.

"Explain yourself Draco Malfoy," Hermione hisses, throwing her hands up on her hips.

"Hello darling, it's simply lovely to see your beautiful face yet again."

"Draco," she replies, through gritted teeth.

"Before you build yourself up into a blind rage, listen to me for one moment. The whole of the Wizarding World could have vastly been changed, if not for what I have just achieved,"

"You have one minute, Malfoy."

"Let's just say I left a letter for an old friend."

"Draco, what have I told you about-"

Before she can speak another word, I close the gap between us and silence her by lightly covering her mouth with my right hand. When she has finally ceased attempting to lecture me, I remove my hand and kiss her lightly on the forehead.

"Trust me love, you'll be glad I did this."

Suddenly, Hermione realizes what I am saying, which prompts her to practically knock me over with a hug.

"You mean, you delivered the letter?"

"Of course. It's not as if I expected anyone else to. No one knows the Manor better than a Malfoy,"

"Well, I guess that completes the circle you darling."

"I told you that you would be glad I had."

"Don't think you're out of trouble just yet mister. You gave Scorpius and I a terrible fright. Next time, warn me before you go gallivanting off saving the day through time why don't you?"

"Does this mean I have permission to use the Time Turner once again at a later date?"

"Not a chance Draco. I guess your future self will have to be a little more creative. Hopefully, my future self has good enough sense not to hex you into oblivion."

"Oh Mrs. Malfoy, always with the idle threats."

" Don't mock me Draco Malfoy, or I'll show you idle."

"Hermione, I'm shocked. I wouldn't believe you would do such a thing with one of our children in the room."

" That's it! Scorpius, catch Daddy and tickle him until he begs for mercy! I'm going to go fetch your twin sister Carina to help."

With that, another normal night in Malfoy Manor commences, with the wheel of time continuing on the correct path. All is well.


End file.
